Not That Girl (Part Eleven) | Peter Parker [TH]

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The minute Peter locked eyes with him across the dance floor, his heart sank. He'd forcefully peeled himself away from you as the man smiled. Peter's mind was reeling.

How had he been so stupid? Why didn't he protect his identity more?

You had yelled at him for giving up his identity to three strangers, and he had brushed it off. Because they were just three thieves, not anything big or important.

But anyone could fit puzzle pieces together.

There was one at the table serving punch, looking like he was waiting for him. He stopped in front of the table. The guy passed a red cup of juice to a student and then grabbed another.

"Peter Parker," he said simply.

Peter's jaw tightened more, teeth gritting, hands clenching. His brown eyes asked the question his locked lips wouldn't allow him to say.

"It wasn't hard to find you," he said. "In fact, you made it all too easy. And finding information about you - well, that was the easiest." He smiled. "Wanna know what I found out? You're sixteen. You go to Midtown... you're a science genius, blah, blah, blah... but here are some interesting things. You live alone with your aunt. Your date over there knows about your secret life. You would risk everything for her. Oh, and Tony Stark is very much invested in your life."

"What do you want?" Peter asked.

"Revenge is good and fun, especially when you're the only man in Queens that knows a young boys biggest secret. But-" He grinned. Money," he said, sighing tiredly. "But not enough to get me to my next bottle of alcohol. I need loads of it. And what better person to get it from than Tony Stark's newest recruit?" He grabbed the ladle and spooned out some punch. "I get that you won't want to help me out, but here's the thing. If you had just let us rob that girl, this wouldn't have happened. Wait, no. If you hadn't given up your identity, this wouldn't have happened. We're smarter than we look, kid."

"So what? I'm not asking Mr. Stark for money," he said. "I can't just do that-"

"You can," the man snapped.

Peter wondered if the man was into drugs and was desperate for hid next supply. Probably. Most definitely, because this man was delusional.

"And you will," the man added, "because your girlfriend is alone on the dance floor, and isn't aware that two of her attackers are three feet away."

Peter turned his head. You were standing in the middle of the floor, watching the dancers, oblivious. And your attackers were just behind you. Peter snapped his head back to the man.

"I get it," he hissed. "If they touch her, I swear-"

"Shut up," the man said. "Take us to Mr. Stark."

How stupid could this man get? Peter wondered, eyebrows pulling together. He literally had no say, obviously, it Mr. Stark's finances - but drug addicts are crazed enough to come up with these insane, desperate scenarios, and most likely, crazy enough to bring weapons.

"Kid," the man muttered, pushing a cup of punch at him, splashing some on the sleeve of his suit. "Don't make us hurt that girl. We know more about her thank you think. We have followed you and we know where she lives, no where she goes after school, where she waits for you."

Peter felt slightly sick but mostly angry as he imagined you being watched by the three sickos that held a knife to your throat. He cursed himself for not noticing they were there through it all, even the kiss at your window, which was the most sickening to think about-

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